


Results of Some Rogue Squadron Betting

by Astronut



Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23745037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astronut/pseuds/Astronut
Summary: Red Flight stages an intervention.A prologue for Starfighters of Adumar.
Relationships: Iella Wessiri Antilles/Wedge Antilles, Wedge Antilles/Qwi Xux
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Results of Some Rogue Squadron Betting

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not repost without permission.

Results of Some Rogue Squadron Betting

_“And rather than compromise myself with the diplomatic corps by letting you know just how badly I lost, I’m going to ask you to go on ahead.”_

_-Wedge Antilles, SoA_

Tycho sat down at the small alcove table where Wes and Hobbie were already nursing their drinks. He dropped wearily into to his seat, the day’s tension slow to drain from his aching muscles. Wes pushed an open bottle of lum his way. “You look like you could use this.”

“Thank you,” Tycho said, and then took a swig. The cold liquid burned slightly as he swallowed, but soon he felt the warmth in his belly sooth some of the aches. “I received a rather odd request from General Cracken today.”

Hobbie raised a sandy eyebrow. “Oh? How would Intelligence like us to commit suicide today? Assault a secret ship yard? Attack a garrison using only our teeth?”

Tycho pretended to glare at Hobbie. The NRI had always been a sore spot for the Rogues, right behind Bothans and politics. “General Cracken requested our presence on a diplomatic mission to a small, recently re-discovered world.”

Wes pulled a face. “Eww. Death by diplomacy. Nasty.” 

Tycho nodded. “The worse part is that he expects us to do it on our own time. The mission is completely unofficial, with NRI’s full support, of course.” 

A snort came from Wes. “Of course. Which means no support whatsoever.” 

“A point which I brought up,” Tycho said dryly. “Just because I don’t spend all my time whining doesn’t mean I don’t see the bantha in front of me. He suggested sending Winter in undercover. That way we’d have support we could all trust if things go sour. Which they shouldn’t.” 

Hobbie took another pull from his drink before leaning in towards his friends. “So, if Cracken needs pilots for something, why not send the Wraiths? That’s what they’re for, isn’t?” 

“Like they know the word ‘diplomacy’,” Wes responded. 

Tycho nodded. “The Wraiths can be a bit hard on the scenery under the best of circumstances. In addition, the mission calls for four of the New Republic’s most famous pilots, which the Wraith definitely are not but I figure the three of us fit the description rather well. I was going to bring in Corran, but with Mirax two months pregnant, I’m not sure that it’s the best idea to tear him away from Coruscant right now.” 

“What about Wedge?” Wes suggested, covering a yawn. 

Tycho pointed to the insignia on his jacket, “Just what part of the whole ‘Colonel’s can’t order around Generals’ don’t you understand?” 

Wes wrinkled his nose. “What can I say; I’ve never had much use for this whole command structure thing.” 

“And you wonder why no one ever leaves you in charge of anything,” Hobbie groaned. He turned to look at Tycho. “Seriously, why isn’t Wedge in on this? He’s the best we’ve got and it’d be good to see him again.” 

Tycho frowned. “I suppose he’s busy. Fleet Command’s been doing a lot of restructuring ever since the incident with the Hutt’s last year at Hoth, trying to cover vast swaths of space that may be home to threats other than the Imperial Remnant. I’m sure we’ll see him when he gets a little down time.” 

“Or he’s just busy going out of his head,” Wes muttered. 

“Wes,” Tycho growled. 

Wes studied Tycho and then set his lum down hard on the table, his usually merry face matching Hobbie’s grim visage. “Tycho, when in the past three years have you seen Wedge?”

“What are you talking about, Wes?” The confusion was evident on Tycho’s face. “We saw him two months ago. We all did. He came down to have a drink with us after we ran that mission from the _Lusankya_. That’s not to mention all that training we did with _Lusankya_ ’s squadrons prior to that.” 

“We saw him, Tycho, but we didn’t see _him_ ,” Wes replied adamantly. 

Before Tycho could respond, Hobbie broke in. “Remember when Mirax was kidnapped? Had this happened before the attack on Coruscant, before the whole Emperor Reborn fiasco, Wedge would have been organizing the search party. We’d have been on the _Errant Venture_ , against orders, searching every corner of known space. She’s practically his little sister. The three of us experienced what Wedge was willing to do for a sister he’s barely had a glimpse of since he was seven, I wouldn’t want to be the guy that dared to hurt the sister who’s been at his side since he was three. Instead, he lets Horn handle it.” 

Tycho stared at Hobbie. “Is that all?” 

Hobbie leaned back stretching, “Yeah, I think that about covers my obligation to speak for the next month.” 

It took another gulp of his drink before Tycho could form a coherent thought. “We’ve all changed over the years, even you Wes.” Wes held his hands up in denial and then stuck out his tongue. Tycho shook his head and continued. “My point is that we’ve all survived some pretty nasty things and things like that have a way of changing a person. For Wedge, I think he’s finally realized that he’s earned himself a bit of peace. From my own conversations with him and a few thoughts I heard from Corran, it sounds like Wedge is struggling to settle down. He’s survived the war by skill, luck, and some cosmic twist of fate and now he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He knows he can’t continue as he’s been and some part of him longs for the life he had as a child. He wanted to be an architect as a boy, so he volunteered to organize the Coruscant reconstruction effort.” 

“Which was silly,” Wes interjected, “given that his talents run more towards blowing things up.” 

“Speak for yourself, Janson. The foodsynthesizer in the mess hall last week ring any bells?” Tycho shook his head and continued, “Even the Fleet assignments he’s been accepting are ones that all him to stay with one group continuously, with frequent visits to Coruscant, providing stability he hasn’t seen since he joined the Alliance. He remembers being loved, so…”

“…he settles for the first feathered-brained, blue bimbo that will…”

Tycho reached over and smacked Wes upside the head before he could continue his statement. “We’re in public, you’re clearly not drunk enough to be excused, and I’m clearly not drunk enough to permit you.” 

“Sorry.” Wes slouched down in his chair, arms crossed, not looking sorry at all. 

“Anyway, I think that as he starts to make a new life for himself, he’s been packaging up the old one, trying to keep all that death and destruction he’s experienced in the last few years from destroying what peace he’s finally won for himself. We’re part of that old life so he’s been drifting away from us,” Tycho concluded. 

Wes and Hobbie sat quietly for a moment. Then Wes shook his head. “Tycho, my friend, I respect your Alderaanian heritage and all, but the lovely philosophical psycho babble is a bunch of stinky hot tauntaun poodoo and you know it. Wedge had had well over a decade’s worth of experience keeping me from destroying his love life. If he thought we were somehow screwing up his life, we’d damn well know it. How many times has he called you up out of the blue in the past three years? How many times have the two of you gone out for a drink together? How many?” 

The first words that jumped to Tycho’s tongue were those of denial but he clamped his mouth shut and considered Wes’ words. “Apart from official duties? Several times from when he left Rogue Squadron to just before he took the reconstruction job. After that? Maybe twice. He called me once shortly after he was assigned Qwi’s body guard to discuss Ithorian food of all things, and once after Corran found Mirax to check that everyone had made it out safely. We’ve met for dinner three times on Coruscant, but always with Winter and Qwi present.” 

“Tycho, I’d hate to break it to you,” Wes said solemnly, “but you’re the most respectable Rogue we have. If anyone from his squadron days is fit to go running around in his new idyllic life, it’s you. He trusts you…” 

“Yes…” Tycho said cautiously, unable to see where this was going.

“…he trusts you so much he doesn’t want to see you in any circumstance where you could tell him what an idiot he’s been,” Hobbie finished. 

Tycho blinked. “Damn.” 

Wes motioned to the waitress. “Another round. The hard stuff this time.” 

***

It took another two rounds for Tycho’s confusion and shock to numb into a detached disbelief and finally distill into hardened resolution. Setting down his glass, Tycho looked at his friends. “So what do we do?” 

“Hit him over the head with a rock?” Hobbie suggested. 

“Hit him over the head with an X-Wing?” Wes countered. 

“I think he might notice that particular intrusion,” Tycho said dryly. “I would expect to encounter some defensive strategy.”

“Friendly fire,” Hobbie suggested, then leaned back, looking proud of himself. 

“Huh?” Even Wes looked confused. 

“Again, with the help files,” Tycho prompted. 

“What’s the only way Wes ever tagged Luke Skywalker in a firefight? Friendly fire. We hit him from behind when he least expects it. He’ll be too busy engaging the enemy, and he’ll trust us to have his back,” Hobbie elaborated. 

Tycho leaned forward, the obvious plan finally dawning. “Instead of me leading the mission, we tell Cracken to talk Wedge into it.”

“Ernt! Wrong, try again,” Wes interjected, sounding like a holo gameshow host. 

“I get Winter to tell Cracken to talk Wedge into it?” When Hobbie nodded, Tycho continued, “Wedge takes the mission, inviting the three of us to go along for the ride. The mission is a simple diplomatic mission, meaning that all we’re supposed to do is talk. And talk we will. All of those late night soirees and dinner parties will provide the perfect excuse for getting him mildly suggestible so we can hold a normal conversation. There will probably be enough flying and enough political pressure that Wedge will be responding to the external situation in a predictable pattern; he won’t have time to put up those defensive shields he’s been throwing up. I also get Winter to ask Iella to substitute for her, presenting a very real reminder of how much Wedge prefers a woman who can take care of herself as opposed to one he has to protect.”

“And we get Wedge back,” Wes added. 

“And we get Wedge back,” Tycho agreed. “So how long have the two of you been plotting this or something like this?”

Hobbie and Wes exchanged twin toothy, evil grins. “Well,” Hobbie began, “we realized a year ago that we had to do something.”

“After all, Wedge takes ages to make his move on a girl,” Wes said. “And we had a very tight deadline.”

Tycho raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “You’re doing all of this for a bet? Just for that pool we started for Wedge and Iella ages ago?” 

“Maybe,” Wes said. But then the grin fell from his face and his expression became serious again. “And maybe I’m just really missing my friend.” 

Hobbie, looking equally grim, drew in a ragged breath and let it out slowly. “All I know is I want the old Wedge Antilles out of retirement.” 

Tycho raised a fresh bottle of lum. “I can drink to that.” 

Drink they did, spinning stories of the past and making plans for the future late into the night. 

And none of them ever noticed the grey haired General in Intelligence tans sipping his brandy with a smile just two booths away. 


End file.
